The Iris: Beginning of AOD
by Lara A
Summary: After a desperate phone call from her mentor, Lara rushes to Paris to find nothing except blood stains in his flat.


With special thanks to Virus_Inside, if it wasn't for his/her work, almost none of this story would've been worth reading.  
  
I look at the half open door suspisciously. Is it like Werner to leave his door open at this hour of night?  
  
I push the door open with a single finger and find my chance of seeing everthing clearly as the light from a thunder finds its way through the open window. The passageway leads me to his living room and I hear a crunching sound beneath my feet as I walk. I move my foot away from the item and crouch in favor of a better look.  
  
It's a picture of me and Werner. I don't remember when it was taken, but I'm certain that it was taken after the saga of Horus and Seth. I get up with the picture frame and look at myself in the mirror with flashbacks from the past racing through my mind: the time when I demanded my parents to let me go to an adventure with Von Croy, when he warned me of the dangers of what that seemed to be naught but a harmless old rock sack, when I pulled the leaver in Angkor Wat, knowing that soon we both would regret it.  
  
It all started with the Iris. Me and Werner's peaceful adventure in Angkor Wat turned into a disaster that I recognized as his death for quite a long time. After that, there wasn't a single night for a great deal of time that I did not have the dream of Von Croy giving a lecture in my school, or teaching me elements of adventuring. Yet I did not consider myself as the reason of it, no, for I had seen clearly the reason. He had died because of disrespect, the disrespect that was root to carelessness.  
  
I warned him about the instructions written on the plaque, told him that it would bring disaster if he picked it up. He ignored his own advice. Of course, as a sixteen-year-old protégé, I was smart enough to pull myself out of it before my life was taken away by Von Croy's foolishness. More than ten years later, when I realised he's alive, I attacked his skyscraper and got back the artifact (The Iris) that I deserved. I spent a very exciting night there; thanks to Werner's hot security system and Zip's valuable instructions. Although I thought this item was harmless, at least for some time, I was wrong.  
  
Ever since after our argument on whether or not that artifact should be picked or not, a little spark of hatred had started to burn within us. Von Croy's selfishness and boasts seemed pretty much unnerving to me; he didn't have the eyes to watch me prevail in adventuring.  
  
We-me and Werner-caused enough trouble for each other and in return, made even more trouble for each other. This rivalry that began years ago in the first adventure we had together almost ended up in his death, and then in the dreadful time I had to spend in the depth of the Temple of Horus.  
  
When I got out of there and called him, old Werner was about to fly from joy. Many had accused him for murdering me and I forced a smile on my dry face. I did not know how it feels to be accused for what you haven't done, especially a murder.  
  
But now I do. Werner Von Croy, the man who was proud to announce himself as an archaeologist adventurer, the man who entered me to the world of adventuring... murdered? By whom?  
  
I suddenly turn away from the mirror. It's those whispers again, and they're coming from the room above this hell. With the stealth I used in VCI, I walk upstairs and open the door a little, spotting some men with their faces covered with fabric who are using a rope to slide down. Two words flash in my mind: Werner's murderers.  
  
I leap inside and grab the only man who's left by the neck causing him to move his hands wildly. The man scratches my face and grabs his nose seconds after I thrusted the palm of my hand beneath it. Blood gushes out from between his fingers and he looks at me with such red eyes that reminds me of the first thing I saw in the Tomb of Semerkhet. Resting my gun on his head, I demand him to tell me why he killed the old man. He doesn't answer. I ask him where his friends are going. He doesn't answer and receives a blow on the head as a reward.  
  
A loud alarm tells me that an ambulance has arrived. Bloody devils.  
  
The man puts a smile of victory on his face, not knowing that I've been in worse situations. I wear malicious smile that drains his whole courage away. I make him get up and jump down without using the rope his friends did. Terrified, the man looks at me and down, talking with his pleading looks. The police are running up the stairs and we're running out of time.   
  
"Stupid."  
  
With on hand I grab his collar and with the other I grab a part of his shirt and throw him out of the window on his friends who are sitting in a jeep. I jump down carefully and change my direction of running immediately before the killers can shoot me with their useless rifles. I run in front of the house and smile gladly as I spot the keys in an ambulance.  
  
A nurse comes out from the house just as I start the car. He let out a terrifying yell that was followed by some policemen coming out of the house. Not having enough time to wonder about where they came from, I back out from the place where the car is parked and chase Werner's murderers. The policemen get delayed as a truck spins in front of them, not giving them the chance to even see where I went.  
  
A bullet passed my ear by only an inch, and I look back to see another car loaded with thugs. The car in front lowers its speed whilst the other one starts increasing it, telling me that I had judged them wrong. I suddenly spin in a narrow street to dodge the other car. The sound of a huge explosion as well as the fire that passed the narrow opening tells me that I'm the only survivor in the cat and mouse game.  
  
  
  
********************  
  
Finally. The view of Jean's block of flats gives me such a great feeling of comfort and ease that if it was a person I would've embraced it like a long lost friend. I run the whole stairs up until I reach the door and knock hard on it ten times. Jean Yves opens the door and gasps in such surprise that if he faints, I won't be surprised.  
  
"You're here!" He gasps once more and grabs me tightly.  
  
"I am," I reply, pushing away from him slightly.  
  
"Did you see Von Croy?" He asked as he invited me in with a motion of his hand.  
  
"No," I said. "So far as I realised when I went in his house he was gruesomely murdered and his killers had removed any evidence left. That is, except for cleaning up the mess they had made. I didn't get any chance to get more than this." I show him the picture.  
  
"Dear lord," he said. "You were found in the place weren't you?"  
  
"I was," I affirm with total regret.  
  
"This is bad." He shook his head and suddenly looked up at me. "Sit while I get you something to eat. Might as well take a kip, you look terrible."  
  
"Slightly true according to the occasion," I say as I lie on the couch.  
  
I look at the clock on the wall. It's almost 1 A.M. in the morning and Jean's inside the kitchen, making his usual snack so far as the aroma tells me. I must've fallen asleep.  
  
My arms and legs are all sore and I try to think of what awaits me in the future as I stretch. I can tell from right now that they are not bright and beautiful; in fact, I think I gradually am becoming a fugitive on the run. I do wonder if police here are still looking for me?  
  
"So," Jean says as I enter the kitchen and raid the frying pan full of sousages. "I can't help but thinking that if you were around that place then the police are looking for you. Or in other words, you must be a fugitive on the run."  
  
What an unpleasant coincidence.  
  
"Let me eat with peace, will you?"  
  
"Sorry, it's just that I wanted to alarm you. So are you planning to stay in Paris?"  
  
"Yes. I've decided to continue the path Von Croy was going."  
  
"You must be joking. The man, what's his name, Eckhardt, he was evil. He was contemplated some sinister work."  
  
"Von Croy was searching for only one painting. I wonder if he has the rest?"  
  
"What are the paintings anyway?"  
  
"The Obscura Paintings. They were painted in the 14th century, their power secure within them, only to be unleashed when together I suppose. Echkardt must've been part of the Alchemist, the evil force that want those items."  
  
"So what are you going to do?"  
  
"I'm going to follow the Alchemist. Go wherever they go and get revenge for whatever they have done and will do. I see where they'll lead me."  
  
"How are you going to find the path of the Alchemist? I believe they want you dead as Von Croy's student."  
  
"Yes, but if I have one of the paintings, then we might even become best friends."  
  
"What if they already have the painting?"  
  
"They don't. They must've been desperate to hire Werner for the job. Do you know where can I find the painting?"  
  
"How about the local museum?"  
  
"No. That is obvious. I need to search deeply through the city, just like what they are doing right now."  
  
"Then you must hurry and find the painting before they can lay their eyes on it," he gets up from behind the table. "I have some items that may be useful for your adventure. Come with me to my room."  
  
I look at the things he hands me and smile.  
  
"Sleeping gas?" I ask. "Where did you get this?"  
  
"Thought it might be useful sometime," he replies, slightly turning red.  
  
"I never thought you could be more than a book worm Mr. Yves," I inquire with a wider smile.   
  
"Anything for a friend Lara," he hugs me. "Just be careful."  
  
"If I was ever to be careful than I hadn't come this far." I remark as I open the door.  
  
"You take care. These people aren't as soft hearted as Von Croy to just kidnap you."  
  
He shuts the door gently and I face a whole city confronted by evil. After a deep breath I step into the street and make my way towards the museum to see what future awaits me and to change it. 


End file.
